


The Walls We Build

by loce21



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Heavy Angst, Panic Attacks, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loce21/pseuds/loce21
Summary: Sometimes walls are needed. They can help us keep out the things that need to be kept out. Like emotions. Korra is a veteran, returning back to San Francisco to pick up the pieces of her life. This happens to include Asami Sato.
Relationships: Bolin/Opal (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 71
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

Preface:  
I should probably start off by saying that this story is one that delves into areas, groups of people, activities, that I personally am not connected to. The experiences carried by the people in this brainchild of mine are only inspired by other peoples work and the limited amount of research I am able to do on them. Please don’t get too upset if I miss something important, as I really care about these characters that I fell in love with when I first watch The Legend of Korra. I try my best to do them justice, but I’m a shitty writer with not a lot of experience, and no ability to say this was inspired by a real life event. I'm hoping this ends up being a long story, but I don't really have any experience in getting the ideas I have down on paper, so we'll see. In any case, I hope you enjoy.


	2. Monotony

Korra jerked awake, sweat dripping from her crazed brunette hair. Her bedroom was still dark. She quickly turned the only light present, the wide window covered with semi-open blue shades, and saw a street lamp straining to cover the night filled sidewalk opposite her apartment. The darkness was suffocating. She huffed, attempting to balance her breath. God fucking dammit. 

She turned back to the ceiling. She had forgotten to turn the fan off the night before, so it lazily swung around, blowing hot air down onto her face. It did nothing to comfort or cool her. Regaining her composure and sense of direction, she realized that she ended up with her head at the end of her bed again. It was the third time this week. 

Still not quite awake, and sweating uncontrollably, she pushed the covers that barely covered her thighs off the right side of the bed. Her mind briefly recognized that it was covered in sweat, but she couldn’t yet think clearly enough to deal with it. Sitting upright in the middle of her bed, she rubbed her eyes, both to wake herself up and to make sure that what she had seen in her dream was truly gone. Peaking out from behind her hands she could no longer see the blood on the walls. 

Korra sighed. Quickly rolling over the balls of her feet, she reached under the lampshade and turned the nob clockwise twice. As light flooded the room, Korra had to shield her eyes for the second time. As the thumping in her head subsided, she turned to the neon red alarm clock on her dresser: 0435. God fucking dammit.

She rolled out of bed with the litheness of a dancer and promptly marched to her closet. Korra grabbed a pair of grey sweat pants and through them over her boxers, which she had already had on from the night before. After momentarily debating with herself whether not to throw a shirt on over her sports bra, she shut the doors to her closet, deciding against it. There wasn’t anybody awake enough at this hour to see her anyways. The last steps in her morning routine were grabbing a roll of socks from her dresser, leaning against the end of the bed while sliding them on, and finally, throwing on the pair of running shoes resting neatly beside the door of her bedroom. She hated herself the whole way through. 

It was too early for this shit. She was sore, tired, and too mentally fucked up. The nightmare from the night before was flashing before her eyes and she couldn’t shake it. Contrasting the obviously militaristic neatness order of the room, sparse of furniture save the dresser and devoid of dirt or disorder, her mind was a mess. It had felt too real. It had been the worst one this week. God fucking dammit. She glanced longingly at the bathroom door, desperately wanting to crawl into the shower and spend all morning with her head in her hands soaking under the water. The 8 years of a strict regiment in the military won out. 

Grabbing her phone and earphones, she opened the door and strode out past the living room of her apartment and finally, out the door and into the hallway.

This morning was no different from the past 600 or so since she had returned to San Francisco. Korra would wake up, always without an alarm, drained from a night of restless sleep. She would get changed and begin her 13-mile run.

It was robotic. She would flow from one step to the next with the precision of one who had done it thousands of times. It would almost look thoughtless to anyone else who observed it. But to Korra, it was the most mentally draining part of her day. As she jogged out the doors of her building and out into the familiar road that she would run every morning. God fucking dammit. Her left calve still ached from the time she twisted her ankle 2 days prior. Not that it was going to stop her. 

Korra didn’t know this herself, but she was probably the fittest woman in the entire city. Beginning her stretches, she quickly pulled out her phone and opened the stopwatch app that would track each of her individual mile splits. This marked the beginning of her early morning workout. Despite how agitated she felt from the night prior, she started off at a blistering pace. There were very few runners who could keep up with her, even more so when she was attempting to work out so much of her anger and fear.

Putting one foot in front of the other, with the street lamps illuminated the still dark street harmonically flowing past, Korra pushed. Up and down the hilly terrain of San Francisco. Through the usual park. Back out onto a street that she didn’t need to check the name of. Mile by mile. One foot in front of the other. Her mind wasn’t there. It was stuck, fending off the waves of terror, loss, rage that continued their assault on it.

Before she knew it, she was covered in sweat and standing again in front of her building. Her sweatpants actually appeared like she had jumped in the small pond in the park. But despite her appearance, Korra wasn’t breathing hard. From her breathing alone, one would assume she had maybe walked up a couple of flights of stairs, not just covered multiple city blocks worth of ground in, as she looked down at her phone, an average of a 5:26 mile pace. Her calve was really hurting like hell though. 

Returning to her apartment, she threw her now soaked clothes into a hamper just outside her room and practically fled into the shower. Like always, she turned the water on and without waiting for it warm, crawled to the fettle position on the freezing tiles. The tears she had been hoping for 2 years didn’t come. They never did. Instead, the sweat under her eyes was replaced with clean water. It had been years since she cut her hair, and she relished the fact that it didn’t get in her eyes too much as she lay there. It was a bitter thought. Why the fuck was she worrying about her hair. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The emotions that she had been trying to dispel with her usual run came renewed their flood into her thoughts. She couldn’t take it. The tears just wouldn’t fucking come. She choked out a sob. As she remained there, tucked into herself on the floor of her shower, the bitterest thought of them all, the one that plagued her since her return, rang out in her mind. Why did I have to be the one?

Leaving the shower, she finished the remainder of her morning. It now read 0646 on the clock, and she through on a fresh sports bra and a skin-tight, dark blue workout shirt, accompanied by a black pair of shorts. The kitchen in her apartment wasn’t anything crazy, but the years in the army had taught her to make the use of the tiny space. 

Two eggs, 3 egg whites, and spinach all found their way into the light olive oil coated pan. Korra was reminded not for the first time of a long-ago happy memory. She could hear the laughter of another as she found herself with a piece of scrambled eggs resting on her shoulder. Back in the present, she shook her head, continuing to stir the eggs before checking on the instant oatmeal in the microwave. About as perfect as it was gonna get. Quickly wolfing everything down with a pinch of salt on the eggs and a pinch of cinnamon on the oatmeal. 0700. 

Time to leave. She grabbed her Speedo bag in addition to the Nike duffle resting beside the door and slammed the door shut on her apartment and her morning. Good riddance. With that, she put her walls up, the six feet of solid concrete which kept out all emotion and allowed her to deal with her day.

Korra currently worked at a YMCA. She was a swim instructor. Not the most glamorous of jobs, but not that she cared. It had been years since she swam competitively, but she could fondly remember the days she spent with her dad standing on the side of their local pool doing a consistent 7000-8000 yards every day. Their sessions were brutal, but she loved them. Back then, she used to dream of the 5 rings. She was good enough too. It really was too bad. 

Now, her swimming skills were the thing keeping the heat on. At least she had that as a comfort. She was always booked from the start of her workday, 0830 to 1830. It was always a long day. Her clients were all over the place. Moms nervous about their young children, older men and women who saw swimming as a great source of exercise, and wanted someone to socialize with and teach them advanced techniques, even high school and college students who were currently competing at their own levels. Korra’s ability as a teacher and a coach was known to all those who swam in the area. 

She was a bit of a local legend due to her saving a young child who had wandered into the pool area after not being watched by his mom and falling in. She had never enjoyed the level of attention that gave her. But she loved swimming, and her lessons were one of the few things that would help her unwind. She sure needed it.

Today was no different than any other day. Korra walked through the sliding doors of the Y and up to the round desk which welcomed the guests in. Opal Beifong, Korra’s coworker and closest and possibly friend, sat there with a sympathetic grin on her face. 

She immediately noticed the bags under and bloodshot nature of Korra’s eyes. While Korra began to sign into her shift for the day and check who she was putting up with for the day, Opal quietly spoke out. “How was it last night.” Korra didn’t even look up, just slightly shook her head. 

That was enough for Opal. She knew what that meant. “That bad huh.” Korra didn’t respond. Opal sat silently for a moment while carefully considering her next words. “Have you given any thought to the psychologist I told you about?” Korra instantly recoiled over her clipboard. “Opal, I’ve told you this already, I’m not going to have some fucking shrink poke around in my brain while he pretends to care about them.” She spoke with such rage and venom, and while Opal was disappointed, she didn’t really expect any other reaction. She knew Korra well enough to know that Korra couldn’t fucking stand doctors, or pretty much anyone who tried to look around in her brain. 

Not that Opal wouldn’t stop trying to get her to go. She was one of the only people Korra trusted to share her life story, and even she felt that she didn’t have all the pieces. Opal cared so much for her, and couldn’t stand to see her best friend as fucked up as she had been for the past 2 years. After a few moments of silence, she changed her tone and spoke out again, completely shifting the subject. “You wanna do something tonight?” Korra finally looked up at her. “Do I have to?” 

“Of course! It’s Friday Korra. You’ve gotta get out of that dingy apartment and do something. I’m not taking no for an answer. I know you aren’t doing anything else.”

“Why do we have to do something every Friday though. It’s not even like we do anything different. We are going to the same bar, you drink the same drinks while I have the same glass of water, and you are going to flirt with your boyfriend Bolin the bartender. It never changes.”

“He’s not my boyfriend yet Korra! Why do you always have to make fun of me like a fun sucking leach? And don’t lie to me. I know you love our adventures at Narook’s…”

“They’re the worst…”

“And besides, you don’t have a choice in the matter. I need you as my wing-woman. ”

“Fuck you Ope. I can see Bolin checking out your ass every time you two are together. He likes you. I’m not needed and I would much rather spend my evening either working out or relaxing in bed with sweatpants on.”

“I am not taking no for an answer. Korra, when was the last time you got laid?” Opal was trying her damn hardest to get Korra’s mind off the dreams she knew she was having

*Silence*

“…3 years ago? Maybe…”

“Holy shit, how can you live like that. I don’t even care if you have a one night stand with a random girl from the bar and completely forget about it. I am dragging you there whether you like it or not.”

*sigh* “fine.”

“I’m gonna make it a night you won’t ever be able to forget

Korra took this the moment briskly turn on her heels to head over to the locker rooms next to the pool while simultaneously flipping off Opal behind her head. Opal glared at the back of her head before shaking her own and staring sadly at the ground. “That girl…”

Korra was one of the few swim teachers who were actually grateful for the opportunity to get in the pool and work with her clients. She now wore one of her many one-piece training swimsuits, with her goggles and cap tucked into the side and clipboard in hand. 

The intricately blue and yellow lines crisscrossing over a black base drew the eyes of all away from Korra’s incredibly muscular frame. Not that one could really ignore it. The muscular lines of Korra’s body had a distinct symmetry, from the striations flowing down her toned shoulders to the envious rock-solid six-pack she sported, peeking out from underneath her skintight suit. Her legs were both muscular and feminine. Her chiseled back leaked out from behind the blue straps. 

She was sitting cross-legged in front of the 8 lane pool with her eyes closed. This was routine for her. Her meditation would always begin every workday. It was a feeble attempt to push away her past, but both Korra and Opal knew it barely helped. But each step had to be carefully repeated. Deep breath in, deep breath out. In… out… If she didn’t have this moment to herself, there was no way she would make it through the day, no way she would be able to keep up her walls in front of the clients she cared for. With that, Korra slowly crawled up to her feet like a gymnast just in time to see her first client, an elderly woman who was one of her regulars, walk through the door of the locker room to join her in the now no longer empty pool.


	3. Cheers!

The long day of swimming finally came to a close with Korra staring at the raisins covering her fingertips. Her last lesson, a cute 5 year old boy, wadled into the mens locker room after his dad. Taking the last 5 minutes to change herself, Korra now donned a tight workout tank-top, with athletic shorts to match. It was 1830, and Korra was already tired, but she couldn’t skip out on the hour of strength training following her every day of work. It was tradition and a ritual at this point, but Korra couldn’t help looking wistfully towards the exit as she made her way over to an open squat rack.

Korra unlocked her apartment while simultaneously complaining about her sore legs. Lunges always killed her, and she was fully expecting the weekend to be filled with an incredibly painful soreness. She immediately headed to the shower, for the second time that day. While her mental state was much better than this morning, that merely mean Korra was more capable of shutting everything out. She left her eyes closed for practically the entire shower, before heading into her bedroom to change into the same pair of faded jeans she wore last time she and Opal went out. On top of that, she threw on a simple blue cotton tee, and, like always, said fuck the makeup. Korra wanted nothing more than to hop into her bed and watch reruns of any comedy that was on, but Opal would have her head for it. Grabbing her keys on a ring in her kitchen, Korra locked her front door and unlocked her car for the second time that day.

Narooks was not fine dining, nor was it even the nicest of dive-bars in the city. But they sure made damn good food, and while Korra herself wasn’t a drinker, Opal would always rave over their cocktails. It was their spot. Always had been, as Korra could remember some great memories from high school when she and friends would sneak in with fake IDs. Korra currently grimaced at the unpleasant memories accompanied by the thought, and while receiving her ID back from the bouncer outside the door, headed in to greet Opal. She found her in their usual spot, a booth that was located right next to the bar, giving Opal plenty of access to Bolin, and Korra plenty of access to the soda machine where she would refill her glass of water. Narook’s forte was Alaskan food, a mix of dishes ranging from classic seaweed noodles to fried ocean prunes, which made the tan girl extremely happy on the inside, and was one of the main reasons she was still so willing to accompany Opal here.

The evening was fairly slow, as there were very few people in Narroks, and Korra spent most of it simply listening in to Opal and Bolins conversation. They would try to include her in it and while Korra loved Opal and Bolin was definitely growing on her, she wasn’t very interested in keeping up with their talks on the latest gossip among their friends. She nursed her water through a plastic straw, content with simply sitting there. Opal would often shoot her a look of both extreme and annoyance that the girl wasn’t enjoying herself more, but she couldn’t really expect much more. Korra was always closed off, and Opals remarks earlier that day about Korra not get laid would fall on deaf ears, as Korra had no intention getting out of her comfort zone like that in order to meet some of the chicks who would drink at Narooks. Korra, however, would not be able to ignore the bombshell that was soon to be dropped on her quietness, and definitely taking out a few of the support pillars in her walls, an ambush that would fuck her over and leave her gasping for air. Because at that moment, Asami Sato walked into the bar.

Korra had yet to notice her, as did Opal and Bolin, who was still slacking and leaning far over the bar to talk to Opal. Asami, wearing a pencil dress and heals with a fair amount of expertly applied makeup, sat down at a stool next to the bar. Bolin, noticing a customer had finally arrived, grinned sheepishly at the girls and then hurried over to ask her what he could get for her. As he met her green, piercing eyes, however, he dropped the glass he was holding in his left hand. It shattered quite loudly on the floor beneath the bar, and two pairs of startled eyes jerked away from each other, down to the glass littering the floor, and finally back up to each other. Bolin had a look of abject horror on his face, and his lips were trembling slightly. He swung his eyes over to the table where Korra and Opal were sitting in shock, reacting to the glass that Bolin dropped. He looked at Opal as desperately as he could and tried to convey a thousand words with only a look, and while Opal was good, could only translate about one hundred of them. Bolin was frantically turnings eyes back and forth between the back of the raven haired girl and Opal, and then finally at Korra. He knew this was not going to end well. Not for anyone.

Neither Opal nor Korra could see who it was sitting at the bar, but it had obviously been a shock to Bolin, so they got up and walked slowly over to the bar, all while Asami Sato turned around in her seat. It seemed as if time stopped when they met in the figurative middle. Korra immediately felt the bomb go off, and 80% of her walls fell. If Bolin’s face held a look of shock, it was incomparable to the look adorned on Korra. Recognition, shock, anger, hurt, remembrance, sorrow, fear, loss, heartthrob. It was an incredibly complex painting, like a Michelangelo masterpiece, minus all the religious tones. Opal’s expression was much simpler to read, pure rage. And finally, Asami held a mix of regret and loss. A tear could be seen forming in her eyes. They all knew each other. That much was evident. As time resumed, Korra’s face finally settled in the blankest stare imaginable, the wildest contrast between herself moments ago. She immediately turned on her legs, grabbed her car keys, phone, and wallet which were sitting on their table, and sprinted out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter here, building up for some exciting stuff next time. Hoping to share Korra's backstory, and maybe a little bit about why she and Asami aren't being a cute couple. Or not. Either way, really enjoyed writing this.


	4. Spirals

No-one else made any moves. Bolin, Opal, and Asami were locked in a Mexican standoff. It seemed like the glances that held so much emotion would actually pierce through the walls. Finally, Opal moved. She walked right up to Asami and slapped her as hard as she could. Asami couldn’t help bitterly thinking she deserved much worse. If the bar wasn’t silent before then, it definitely was now. Only the soft jazz that nobody had the heart to turn off permitted through the air after the crack of the back of Opal's hand cut like lightning and Bolin stood shocked, along with the rest of Narooks. 

Opal glared at all of them, yelling at the top of her lungs, “Nothing to see here, got back to your own shitshows,” which seemed to start the hearts of all the people in the room again as they all started talking in voices that were definitely too loud to be natural. Opal grabbed Asami’s hand as forcefully as the slap she exchanged not 10 seconds ago, and dragged her into the storage closest she knew was off to the side of the bar.

“You Fucker!” Opal yelled at the top of her lungs, slamming Asami against the back of the closet. Not even the thick door could prevent the other patrons from hearing her. Mako, the owner of Narooks and an old friend of all of them, was coming out of his office down the hall after hearing the commotion in his bar only moments before, dropped his jawn at the voice of his timid friend from high school’s voice.

Asami’s head hung low, a frown on her lips; she really wanted to ignore that this was going about as well as the last time she spoke with Opal. Her cheek still stung from the slap.

“Why. are. you. here.” Opal spat out. “And if you don’t give me a good answer within the next 10 seconds I swear I will not leave this room until my hand breaks punching your face in.”

Asami squeezed her eyes shut, the tear that had been building up finally leaking out of them, as she said in a quiet whisper “I came to because I wanted to forget.”

“Not good enough”

“and to get so fucking hammered in the bar that I missed so dearly that maybe I could look back on the past couple years of my life and think, hey, maybe I deserve to live, maybe I’m not a monster, maybe reconcile with the side of me that so desperately wants to invite a time machine and beat the shit out of me just as much as you do.” Asami’s voice rose louder and louder with each word, and when she was finished, she broke down, falling to her knees and sobbing. She knocked over a broom resting against a case of beer and it fell with a clatter only seconds after Asami herself was on the ground.

Opal narrowed her eyes at Asami, sensing the genuine emotion leaking out of her. Standing with her arms on her hips, eyes sharp with distrust, she looked like the interrogator playing bad cop standing over the groveling prisoner.

“What happened to inspire this change of heart.”

Asami tried and failed to blink the tears away. “My dad died. Got divorced.” If it weren’t for the quivering in her lip and the tears now streaming down Asami’s face, it would have sounded as if Asami was talking about something as mundane as the weather.

Opal could only stare in disbelief. Everything clicked.

The reason all 3 girls knew each other was because of high school. Opal had known Korra since middle school, where they had played soccer for 2 years before Korra quit to focus on swimming, and Asami Sato, a new girl who seemingly popped out of nowhere, was in Opal’s biology class. Opal was immediately blown away by her: her perfect hair, tall, lithe, pale legs which seemed to stretch forever, and perhaps most importantly, her unbelievable strength in any academic field one could think of. She seemed so confident in herself, surrounded by this aura that was somehow able to emanate both “nerd” and “unbelievably hot model.” Korra came out to Opal about being bi the year before, and Opal realized that a perfect situation to make her friend happy had fallen into her lap.

Korra was at first reluctant to get to know this “pretty rich girl” as Opal begged and pleaded with her to give her a chance. Their chance meeting only happened when Korra started struggling with Algebra 2 their freshman year, and Asami, walking by as Korra moped her about her grades, instantly offered to give her help if she wanted it.

That’s where it all started. It was impossible for both Korra and Asami not to notice the attraction between the two of them. Korra was the big shot athlete, with a witty, often childish, sometimes brash, but extremely fun-loving sense of humor that complimented her athletic frame. Asami was the brilliant, calm, and collected, tutor. It seemed almost rom-com like. Needless to say, they fell for each other. Opal has always suspected it but had the news broken to her when she happened to walk in on them making out when they were “studying” for a test Korra had the next day.

Being the heiress of a multi-billion dollar company, Asami often struggled with friends and dating Korra, and in turn also getting to know Opal better, meant the world to her. Korra, Asami, and Opal spent all of high school in bliss, having the greatest time just hanging out with each other. Dances, parties, sports games, they did it all. Even back then, Korra and Asami would tease Opal about her crush on Bolin, so at least that hadn’t changed. 4 years is a long time to date someone, especially in high school, but aside from the occasional pointless argument, Korra and Asami were as in love as they were when they first started dating.

As they approached their graduation, Opal could remember the sleepover they had had in Korra’s basement and their grand conversations about their plans. 

Both Opal and Asami were shocked, Asami more so, at Korra’s timid statement that she would be joining the Army. Neither of them expects it, as Korra had numerous offers from Division 1 swimming programs that all wanted Korra, the star swimmer with a couple of state records, and even a junior national medal in the 200 free and 100 fly, to be a part of their team. Asami, who was cuddled up sitting in Korra’s lap, became extremely quiet, and Opal could remember excusing herself and leaving the room to give the two girlfriends space to talk with each other, as they both obviously had a fuck ton of words for each other.

She never got an explanation for what they said, but Korra ended up in basic training a month after graduation. Opal suspected money played a pretty big influence on her decision. It wasn’t like one could make a ton of money even after leaving college with swimming, and Korra knew her family’s economic struggles more than anyone.

Opal remembered the day she left. Bolin, Mako, Opal, and Asami all came to see her off. Both she and Asami were sobbing their eyes out, as Korra lugged a duffle bag onto a train, leaned out the window and flashed a characteristically lopsided smile. Asami ran up to her and gave her the messiest, but sweetest kiss of all time and neither of them cared. Opal could remember Korra whispering “I’m just stepping out for a bit, wait for me,” before turning to the gang and waving goodbye.

Opal and Asami missed her dearly, for different reasons, but they both cared about her. Korra deployed a year later and spent a 3-year stint in the Middle East. 

One of the quirks Korra picked up in the Army was letter writing. Korra never enjoyed writing much in high school, but with limited communication with the outside world, especially in Afghanistan, it was kind of a necessity. Opal could remember the letters she would get every so often describing anything and everything from the food, to the people, to the simple views she would see traveling in another country. Of course, she couldn’t help but feel jealous that Asami would get weekly mail from Korra, but understood begrudgingly that maybe a girlfriend gets precedence over a best friend. Either way, things were good, and both Opal and Asami looked forward to the day Korra would come home to them. 

Over the phone, Opal kept in touch with Asami, and most of their conversations revolved around Korra. Of course, Opal was incredibly proud of her friend who managed to balance a doctorate and partially running a company. But their lives were connected by Korra, and neither of them would ever forget that.

Korra came back after those 3 long years with what looked like 25 years of age tacked on to her, along with 10 more pounds of muscle. Opal never really wanted to ask about the things Korra did in Afghanistan, as the things she guessed Korra had to do over there honestly scared her. She worried that she wouldn’t know about the girl anymore, but it didn’t change the fact that Korra was still the lighthearted, joyful girl she was before she left. She ran up screaming and grabbed Opal and Asami, who met her at the airport, with a huge bearhug, lifting them off their feet. Some people at the airport clapped, but all Opal and Asami could care about were that their amazing best friend and girlfriend had come home.

The next month was bliss to Opal, who was just grateful to spend some time with Korra before she deployed again. The unspoken rule was that when the 3 of them were hanging out together, they wouldn't mention Korra's work at all. Not that any of them wanted to. She grew increasingly nervous, however, and the more and more frequent arguments she would witness between Asami and Korra. They ranged from pointless to downright scary to be around. She knew that Korra’s commitment to the Army and her family was extremely important, but that it also weighed extremely heavy in Asami’s mind. Opal was floundering, trying to appease both of them, as she knew their time was running out.

It wasn’t fair to Asami to make her wait 3 years at a time for her girlfriend, and while Korra knew this, she kept up her emotional barricade because she knew if she let it down she would never have the strength to go back. Asami was always worried about her, as she knew of the dangerous things that Korra did daily, and she would complain constantly to her about anything she could to get her mind off the fear she held in her heart about Korra’s safety.

Despite all the conflict, her second 3-year trip began the same way the last one did. Tears streamed down Asami’s face as once again, she ran up to give Korra a kiss goodbye, but this time, Opal couldn’t quite get what Korra whispered to her. The train pulled away from the station, and she was gone.

A year passed, going about the same as the last time Korra spent time in the Middle East. Letters were exchanged, tears were shed, hearts longed for.

And then Opal was waking up one night at 2:00 AM to her phone ringing.

When she heard it, she immediately heard Asami sobbing. Not a good sign. Opal knew Korra’s absence greatly affected the girl, but she never let Opal in on it, so if Asami was crying, it meant something was truly wrong.

Opal whispered sweet nothings until Asami calmed down enough to choke out “My dad -no, Hiroshi is forcing me to get married.”

Opal instantly paled. She had known Asami and her father’s relationship was never good after Asami came out to him, as he held some pretty traditional viewpoints. Not that it had ever stopped Korra and Asami. But as the years passed, and Korra spent more and more time in the Army, evidently Asami and he became increasingly distant. 

He had essentially raised her, after her mother's passing, to take over the company after he retired. Asami accepted this duty as she didn’t really dislike the work on automobiles, computers, and the mass of other tech Sato Industries produced, but pastime passed, Hiroshi had essentially stopped treating her as a daughter and only as a promising employee. This left Asami incredibly alone, and she relied pretty heavily on Opal.

Finally, it seemed like Hiroshi broke. He was demanding heirs, demanding connections, demanding everything but what Asami wanted. He had met her for lunch, stated she was getting married as if it was as simple as getting groceries. In shock, Asami could only stare at him as he mentioned the name Iroh and walked out the door of the restaurant.

And there she was, bawling her eyes out to Opal, her only source of comfort with Korra gone. Her rock, her love, her everything was who knows where probably risking her life at the moment, and Asami couldn’t even come to her with the news.

Opal couldn’t remember much of the night, but she did remember this. She heard Asami's voice. She could hear the resignation. The sound of her giving up.

Opal was furious. She felt a rage she had never felt before towards Hiroshi, towards Asami, towards the world for putting her two best friends in this impossible situation.

After Asami had finally calmed down and somewhat stopped crying, Opal remembered saying quietly “How can you be okay with this?”

Asami responded “You think I am? That I want to throw away the best 8 years of my life? To let go of one of the few happiness I have left? Of course, I fucking don’t” She was yelling at this point ”But I can’t lose him, Opal, cause I’ve already lost the rest of my family and he’s all I got.” Asami was almost hysterical “I can’t say no. I can’t say no. I can’t say no. He’s going to force me into it, and there isn’t anything I can do!”

Opal didn’t even have to see her face to recognize the life flying out of Asami. She knew that Asami was agonizing over this just as much as she was. It wasn’t her right to get angry. Nonetheless, she couldn’t escape the dark thoughts creeping into her mind, reminding her of how Korra would react when she hears this, and anger spilled out.

“The rest of your family, huh?” A silent shake of the head. “Well, I can see we weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye on life Asami. Not quite sure why you called me, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to ever hear from you again. You know what this is going to do to her and you still are okay with it. You’re fucking heartless. Break it to her yourself. And if I get even the slightest notion that you haven’t told her at all from the letter she sends me, I will ignore every bit of security the Sato family holds to come and find you and make you do it.”

Silence on the other end of the phone. Finally, after about 10 seconds of it, Asami couldn’t take it anymore and whispered “fine.” Opal hung up.

“Fuck me. This is not good.”

2 weeks later the letters from Korra stopped altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of their backstory told from Opal's POV. Don't worry, gonna get some of the details Opal doesn't quite know the full of later in the story. Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Gladly taking any recommendations you all have for this series. Input is always appreciated.
> 
> Can't say I have a definite release schedule for this, as I'm working around school, but I hope to have the next chapter out within the week.


	5. Silent Grief

Korra slammed the door behind her. As soon as her face it the cool night air, it crumpled. The blank slate reverted back to the mess of scrunched eyebrows, a grimace, hair whipping both behind and into her face. Not that she cared. She currently couldn’t give two fucks about her appearance, as she was too preoccupied with fleeing as far as possible away from the hurricane of emotions following her. 

She didn’t even notice the person she bumped into as she hustled on her way to the parking lot. Couldn’t tell if it was a guy or girl. Didn’t matter much to her. There was no apology. Face glued to the concrete. A silent march. 

The man she had ran into looked back at the girl storming off, clearly both irritated and curious as to what could have caused the brash action. He had no idea about the storm he was about to walk into as he pushed open the door Korra had just hustled out of seconds before.

Korra was running at this point. She slammed her car door shut behind her as she slid into the drivers seat, and took off, as fast as the speed limit on the street would allow her.

On the highway back to her apartment, Korra pulled her car over on the side of a highway. She had to stop, had to get out of her car. With her headlights peeled straight ahead, Korra stumbled over to the barrier marking the side, and vomited. Several cars whizzed by behind her, a flash white getting larger and larger followed by a splash of red, over and over, blending into the background. Moving forward at a blistering pace. It was a sharp contrast to Korra. 

Frozen in the past, caught in the headlights.

Korra emptied her stomach, a vile combination of chips and water, as she left before she and Opal ate dinner. A little got on her shirt, not that Korra was paying attention to it.

Why is she here. Why is she here. Why is she here. God fucking dammit. This day was already fucking shitty enough. Just had to heap this on top. God fucking dammit. Hyperventilating, Korra could not still her mind.

She felt like shit.

She could never forget, not in a million years, the smell she only caught a whiff of. That was enough. Jasmine, a hint of pine, the tiniest bit cigarette smoke, and machine oil. It hit her with a wave of nostalgia, and made her keel over and wince in pain.

Choking a little on the throw up, Korra had a sudden primalistic urge to scream out her name into the dark clouds that had started to gather above her. She briefly recognized that her teeth where bitting into her bottom lip, drawing blood.

Her walls were still in shambles; her mind couldn’t keep up with the repairs. If it was for the last bit of her mental strength reflecting back on her military training, she might have spent the night unable to move from the side of the road, paralyzed by loss, grief, and a sense of minuscule self worth that hadn’t hit her this hard in 3 years.

Hands trembling while finally setting the key in the door, Korra stepped into her apartment. Her legs felt heavy, a mix of soreness, tiredness, and emotional exhaustion. Nevertheless, she pulled herself to her closet, grabbed a pair of worn sweats, put them on and ditched the throw up stained shirt.

Her bed, still not made from the struggle she held with the sheets that morning, seemed to be the last line of defense against the constant barrage laying into her walls. Of course this wasn’t true; as soon as she was under the covers, Korra had a repeat of the morning shower, chocked sobs leaking out of her firmly pressed shut mouth.

There were no tears. There never were. Just loss. Just agony. Unceasingly.

This mental breakdown was definitely one of the worst Korra had had in since she returned from the army. Never had she felt so alone. There was no Opal, no Bolin, no Mako, no her, that Korra could lean on. And so Korra bottled it up. This was her strategy. Just shut out the noise, the light, the pain, and it would all go away. It would all get better. It definitely would. These were her walls. A fortress, holding up the pieces of Korra’s emotional stability. Blocking out the feelings.

Any rational therapist would be appalled at Korra’s self destructive approach to dealing with her trauma, her loss. She was unwilling to let go, unwilling to see past her own perceived lack of ability. In her own eyes, she was worthless. Why else would Asami have left her, why else would they have to die. She was incapable of anything. So she shut everything out. It would definitely all go away eventually. She just needed to try a little harder to ignore it. Then she would be left alone.

Of course not, this isn’t some fucking fairy tale.

It was slowly killing her, tearing her out from the inside. By shutting herself off, not letting the tragedy in her life slowly wash over her, Korra was drowning in it. 

In bed, Korra did something she hadn’t in a long time. Reaching under the bead frame, she grabbed an old nike shoe box. There was a thin layer of dust covering the top, marking the disuse, the anxiety held over the contents. 

She sat with her back against the head of the bed, the shoebox nested in her lap. She had barely calmed down enough to slowly open the top.

Inside, 3 different sets of paper rested. Each held a deferent aura: one ominous, one cheerful, and one heartbreakingly sad. Korra grimaced for like the hundredth time that night at the sight.

With a trembling arm, she pulled out the pile consisting of two photos. Her head banged on the wall behind her as she couldn’t help but let her eyes wash over the both of them.

Side by side, were two almost identical photos of a very happy couple. In Opal’s yard, in front of a massive old tree, stood Korra and Asami. One was taken right before Korra headed to basic. The other, right before Korra deployed for the second time. Korra was wearing her dress uniform, with a differing amount of medals decorating the lapel enabling one to guess at the passage of time. In the first, Asami wore a simple combo of skinny jeans and a maroon sweater. In the second, she donned a red dress, with a rather large slit down the side of her left leg. Korra’s arms were wrapped firmly around Asami’s shoulders; even though Asami was a few inches taller, Korra still managed to stand on her tiptoes, and in both photos, was pressing a firm kiss on Asami’s neck. Asami was blushing fiercely, but dual wide smiles with perfect white teeth could be seen. Korra’s shoulder length brown hair mixed with Asami’s raven locks, and neither of them looked like they had a care in the world. They were absolutely happy. Opal, behind the camera, was probably smiling from ear to ear.

Who the fuck were they.

Korra hadn’t a clue. Definitely, she could not recognize herself from her past. That Korra looked like she had fun. That Korra hadn’t a care in the world. That Korra had no idea about the downward spiral her life would soon take.

Her teeth were bitting her lip again. At this point, the taste of blood was preferable to the vomit.

As Korra drifted off to one of the worst nights of sleep she had ever had, the photos fell out of her hand and onto the floor. Invisible tears drifted down the bridge of nose, reaching her mouth, and mixing with the blood.

A real pleasing cocktail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really hurt to write. Obviously, Korra and Asami are both in a world of pain. Korra especially. Really hate putting them through it, but definitely don't to cut them a break just yet. I've really appriciated all your kind words, as they really help motivate me to add to this story. If all things go as planned, I hope to maybe have another two chapters out by the end of the weekend. Who knows though. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
> 
> (While writing, I pretty much had Shiloh Dynasty playing on repeat. If you don't know who she is, I'd highly recommend you give some of her music a listen. Her voice is hauntingly beautiful, and I feel like it really fits the tone of the story)


	6. Regret

Asami had had a shitty week. Actually, it was probably more accurate to say month.

Ah, who was she kidding, the past four years had been unbelievably shitty.

You know that age old question, would you rather have a ton of money but very few friends or or a ton of friends but very few material possessions? Pretty much every elementary kid would wrestle with this problem at least once, taking it home to their parents and saying “Mommy, I want us to have a lot of money, but I also really like my friends from soccer.” Asami could even remember herself struggling with it, as at the age of 5, she was forced to consider her budding friendships with the other girls in pre-school and the big house that she and her parents lived in. When she talked to her parents about it, she got two very different answers.

Her dad (when asked about it when mom wasn't there), was all for making as much money as possible, and that friends would come along with the power and prestige.

Her mom, on the other hand, spoke with a bit more compassion, and camly held the girl in her lap while asking her if she could really put a price on the nice people in her class.

Asami could now firmly say that her mom was 100 percent right in her answer.

She was currently sitting on a counter in her apartment's kitchen, nursing a coffee and a splitting headache. Dealing with hangovers was not her strong suit. It was the main reason why Asami rarely went out drinking.

Not that it stopped her from the 7 shots of a nameless drink that she didn’t even want to think about now.

Opal left her lying, shaking, sobbing on the ground with her back against the closet shelves. She didn’t have anything more to say. It wasn’t like words were going to change the past 4 years. As Opal grabbed her bag and walked out of the door after saying a somber goodbye to Bolin, Asami couldn’t help but wish she would stay and lay into her, keep yelling, beating, taking her well deserved anger out on the girl, because at least that would mean she was still cared enough to get her feelings out.

But she didn’t. The time when she would have passed a long time ago.

Asami came out of the closet to a close-to-silent bar. Now that Opal’s dominating presence was gone, the other customers were starting to whisper amongst themselves. She picked up a lot of looks, some sympathetic, some angered. She was having a hard time making them out, as her eyes were still filled with tears. She made her way over to the ladies restroom in order to drown her head under the sink.  
She left looking a little more refreshed, her cheeks a little red from the water and the rubbing, but feeling no more clean on the inside.

Sitting back down at her spot at the bar, she whispered to Bolin who was still standing behind the bar with a pained expression on his face “Please just let me drink. I don't care what, just make it all go away.”

Bolin’s face scrunched up even more at that, but he reached under the bar, grabbing a shot glass, and filled it.

Down the hatch

And filled it again

Into the hold

And filled it again

Into the dark

She had ubered home, sawing gently as she made her way to her door. Asami had mastered the art of keeping her emotions down, so the people she passed were greeted with a warm face that could not possibly be a representation of her mind. Calm, like the perfect little CEO that everyone wanted. Completely on top of her shit. 

Not.

Inside, the mask dropped. Tears collected in the corner of Asami’s eyes, mixing with the eyeliner and finally dropping to the tiled floor of her apartment. She just wanted to be in a pair of sweats, with a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, under the covers, pretty much as far as possibly mentally from where she was now.

The most she could do was change into sweats and crawl into bed.

Hiroshi had a stroke sitting behind his desk one day about a month ago. While Asami was the official CEO, and had long since surpassed her father in the responsibilities she held, he couldn’t outrun years of an insane work ethic (which Asami had picked up), that would make any president queasy, and a terrible habit of hard liquor after his wife’s death.

His secretary found him slumped over a file, his signature halfway interrupted with pen marks running off the edge of the page, onto the desk, and into thin air.

Asami could remember how awful the hospital smelled. Like chemicals and wishes and loss. The tiny air freshener sprayed about the room by the nurses didn’t really cut it for her.

As Asami held Hiroshi’s hand, with Iroh’s arm around her shoulder, putting on the Princess mask that had been up non stop, Asami’s heart cracked.

She was a coward.

She was miserable.

It’s not everyday you have a revelation that the past 4 years of your life have been a waste, that all the people you care about are either dead, dying, or long gone. That you probably wont ever find anyone like to fill the void ever again.

The doctors predicted Hiroshi wouldn’t have more than 4 days left to live. So she stayed. She didn’t really have a reason to. The last bit of familial respect had been grinded off and soldered back together by a stifling business relationship off a long time ago. He died when they predicted. Asami could be seen sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, head bowed, face dead. Iroh, bless his ignorant, stupid, pure ideals, held her and tried to comfort her.

He couldn’t understand that the person who she threw her life away for, the person who treated her like an object, the person who she had thought she loved and who she thought had loved her back, was dead. Why, when everything was good, did she give it up for this man. She racked her brain, and every analytical system reported back:

Incalculable.

She expected as much.

After the funeral, she realized she had had enough. So she woke Iroh, who could tell she was growing distant and returning to the Asami who he had to deal with when they first married those years ago, up in the middle of the night. She told him she wanted a divorce. He cried, and said he loved her, begged her to stay because she was his rock. Asami didn’t have a response.

I know the feeling buddy. To seemingly lose everything that held you together, made life worth living. And I hate myself for doing it to you. But you will definitely find a partner who will actually love you for you. And it's not me.

That made two hearts she had broken in her life.

Pretty soon, bases will be loaded. Who’s gonna step up to bat then? She thought cynically.

She moved back into her old apartment in San Francisco a week later.

She was still swamped with work. Obviously. It wasn’t like the investors, design teams, and production facilities took a break to accommodate one girl’s anger and self-loathing.

At least she had something to take her mind off it all.

And she pushed herself harder than ever. Because if she didn’t have anytime to think, then obviously she wouldn’t be able to reflect on the choice that destroyed her life. Future Industry stocks soared, carried solely on the back of it’s CEO’s efforts, while her spirits sank lower and lower. 

That's how she found herself at Narook’s that Friday. Her assistant locked her out of her office and wouldn’t let her in until she took time off. At least somebody cared enough to look out for her mental health. So she thought, fuck it. Might as well hit up an old haunt.

Might end up crying in my seaweed noodles, but honestly, the salts will just mix.

Her secretary had texted her the night before saying she had to take the weekend off as well. Of course, she was a little preoccupied with other more pressing problems to check her phone at the time. But it just meant she had way too much time to wallow on her hands.

Being back in San Francisco, Asami was able to visit her mom’s grave again. It was something she dearly missed. Trip to the florist, picking up white jasmine flowers, parking in the terribly maintained parking lot, carefully walking down the rows and columns until she stopped in front of Yasuko Sato’s tombstone. 

Here lies the greatest joy in Hiroshi and Asami Sato’s life. Hope you can smile as much as we are trying to.

I really am trying mom. I'm trying my best. Smiling is just really hard. You always made it look so easy. I used to make it look so easy. Where did that go?

Tears streaming down her face for what felt like the thousandth time that week, Asami starred at her feet.

If I could go back and choose a different answer, I'd really love to. This one sucks.

Mom was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the tin cliff hanger. Jk totally not sorry. On a more serious note, sorry for the lateness. I'm seriously considering setting up a formal schedule so I can get chapters out to you all more regularly. We'll see what I decide on, but I'll be sure to let you all know. As always, I really am enjoying writing this piece. All of your kind words really are the greatest motivation. As always, please let me know what you think!


	7. Remembrance

Korra called in sick for work for the first time in a long time the next day.

It wasn’t like she was never sick. She was just as human as the rest of her co-workers. She just knew that if she missed work, she’d be so angry at herself for letting down the people who counted on her for their swimming lessons, for missing her own workouts, that she would forcibly drag herself to the Y.

That day, however, her own emotions outweighed everything else.

While Korra was used to the break of dawn workouts by now, she was still the high schooler who loved nothing more than to sleep in on a Saturday morning. So she relented to her inner desires. Her eyes did not open till 1100.

Of course, it had been such a terrible night of sleep that even with the extra time, Korra could guess she got no more than 4 hours.

She had woken up at least 6 times, sore all over, from some of the worst nightmares she’d ever had. She couldn’t really remember anything about them now, but she woke covered in sweat every time.

She had spent pretty much all day in bed as well. She sure didn't have the strength to do anything else.

Her walls were still on the mend.

They were getting there, but every once in a while a stray thought would come cannonballing its way into the brick foundation.

So she just lied there, running as fast as possible away from anything that remotely looked like a pair of brilliantly green eyes and a dirtied M16.

Her dog tags were grasped firmly in her right hand. Korra wouldn’t be surprised if the metal bent from how hard she was gripping them.

At least they would then match the broken owner.

When she finally did return back to work, on the Monday after her little weekend vacation, Opal was there, manning the entrance. She wore thinly pursed lips, with one of the most worried, sympathetic, anc caring faces Korra had ever seen her with. Korra didn’t have anything for her. She was the most silent she had ever been in the morning since she started working there. Opal really wanted to say something, but couldn't quite think of anything that would truly say everything she wanted to say. I mean, how do you address your best friend who had her heart broken, stomped on, and then lost everything right after, tried to piece everything back together, just to have it all bowled over in a single night. So they both just stayed silent. 

Opal hated herself for it.

She really wanted to be there for Korra. She knew how much she was hurting, how much she was going off the rails with grief. But over the past 3 years, Opal had familiarized herself with the new Korra. The one who would barely open to anyone, ever. The one who would rather shoulder everything herself. The one who was just as headstrong as she was all those years ago, leading her swimming team to victory. 

Opal was really scared to try and break her way in. What if things got worse? She was extremely close to just saying “fuck it, this has gone on too far and Korra’s depression and PTSD are a serious health hazard” and forcing Korra into rehab. She’d probably have to kidnap her.

Good luck with that.

But today, she really didn’t want to set Korra off, and just let her walk over to the locker room, clipboard under her arm.

The whole week went pretty similarly. Early morning run, floor shower, drive to the Y, check in, no words, long day of swimming, lift, home, bed. 

Korra was still running away from her problems. She pretty much knew it was a matter of time before they caught up with her. No matter how fit she got, she couldn’t outrun or outswim grief. It would always find her.

Not that she knew it, but she and Asami had a pretty similar coping method. To fill their lungs with as much work as possible and force everything else out. In Korra’s mind, this meant pushing her body to its absolute limits, to be so exhausted and so out of breath that all other thoughts except for, “how do I push further” were expelled.

She still really struggled, but if she ever really slipped up, and let her sorrow in, her walls were up, so at least nobody else had to deal with it.

Fantastic.

To make matters worse, a certain anniversary was coming up that Korra dreaded more than just about anything right now, except for maybe running into Asami again.

She really hated this time of year. Really really really really unpleasant memories and scars, came with it. So she’d normally try as hard as possible to ignore it, forgetting the date so that it wouldn’t hit her quite as hard as it would if she truly let herself agonize over it. And that usually worked.

Usually.

This year, she was focused a little too hard on a certain woman and her own failures as a human, and so was a little more preoccupied than usual. But that did nothing to lessen the strife she felt when the week ended, it was Saturday, and she realized that tomorrow she was going to have to re-live one of the worst moments of her life, and the reason she was no longer in the military. Korra definitely felt a little sick to her stomach, as the built up stress and emotional trauma were not helping her clear her thoughts and focus on getting through the next 24 hours. She pushed herself just as hard at work and in her own workouts as a distraction, but she’d done so much of that this week that her mind was really, really having trouble focusing. Even the lessons she gave to the young kids just beginning to start swimming which she usually enjoyed a great deal did nothing to lessen the heavy feeling of anguish in her heart.

Korra was touching her dogtags a lot more than usual that day, a fact that many of her clients noticed. They all knew she had been in the military, but her backstory was pretty much unknown. They all just assumed she got tired of it.

There were very few people who knew the real reason why Korra left the armed forces, and why she suffered so heavily from PTSD. Outside of the military, it was only Opal, and even she wasn’t really supposed to know. Korra had been really reluctant to let her in on her past, and the only reason she was okay with Opal hearing about it was because Major Lin Beifong, Korra’s commanding officer and Opal’s aunt, met with the two of them at lunch one day and Korra felt obligated to share. There was a reason why all the files on Korra were kept extremely classified, with a data lock so dense it wouldn’t be surprising that less than 10 people had ever seen it. 

And honestly, Korra liked it that way. Made it less complicated that almost nobody knew what she had to go through, what she had suffered, why she struggled so much now. Less questions to answer.

Either way, there were a couple of things Korra always did before her routine the next day. Her own mental state wasn’t enough to interupt her single-minded methodical work. An extra long meditation in the morning. Slightly easier day in the gym(this is relative, any other rational human would puke at the thought of what Korra’s “easier” workout was). Hair cut. Trip to the dry cleaners to pick up her military dress. Liqour store. Home with a bottle of whisky and a container of shot glasses in hand. Bag packed. 

Korra had to grit her teeth through the entire day. She was anxious and scared and horribly mournful, but nothing would stop her from making the trip the next day.

Early night to sleep.

Except Korra was still having an increadibly difficult time sleeping at all, so early was just meant getting into bed sooner. The nightmares, which were becoming somewhat better throughout the week, rushed back in. The next morning dark circles could be seen under her eyes, and the covers, which had been folded neatly the night before, were sprawled out across the floor.

She ate a light breakfast - coffee, slightly overcooked scrambled eggs, toast. 

Donning the armor, a crisp white shirt, and a matching pair of dark blue dress pants with a dress blazer on top. Her distinguished service cross medal, which she usually left on top of a bookshelf as she could barely stand to look at it, was pinned on the lapel. Army standard-issue cap. Black dress shoes. Faked brave face.

Her bag was slung across her shoulder, the bottle clinking around on the inside. Grabbing her keys from the counter, she opened the door and stepped out to her car.

Korra was currently headed to the same graveyard Asami had visited the week before. It was about a 20 minute drive from her house, and to Korra, each minute felt like the moon was being rocketed down to the Earth’s surface, ready to destroy every semblance of a normal life. She did not turn on the radio. She did not open the windows, or turn on the A.C. Her eyes were glued to the road in front of her, turning when she needed to almost on autopilot.

She was really trying to hold it together as she pulled into the parking lot. Quivering hands turn the keys in the ignition, and opened the door. Korra walked with a semi-brisk pace past the entrance, past the several other people visiting loved ones long gone, down to the back right corner of the field of tombstones.

She recognized the woman standing there, waiting for her. It was Major Beifong. She was also wearing military dress. Her hands were clasped behind her, a sad smile greating Korra, who could muster no such action herself in return. As Korra slowly walked up to her side, Lin spoke softly out to her

“It’s good to see you Captain.”

*Choke*

“Thank you, Major.”

Korra popped a stiff salute, years of habit and training and threat of cleaning toilets kicked in.

“At ease. You know I told you to stop doing that shit.”

Korra joined Beifong with her arms behind her back.

Lin, in an even softer voice than before, asked “You ready kid?”

Korra, with her eyes on her shoes, just shook her head, but didn’t say anything. She then took the bag she had been carrying off her shoulder, placed it on the ground in front of her, and took out both the bottle of whisky and the glasses.

In front of Korra and Major Beifong were 5 graves. They were incredibly neat, and definitely in good condition. Korra suspected that Lin would come out every so often and personally clean them. It was too much for Korra herself, but she was definitely grateful. The tombstones themselves were fairly plain. They each just contained a name, a date, and a rank. The only embellishment was a tiny paw print in the upper right corner. For the most part, passerby’s would have no way of recognizing anything special about them.

One by one, Korra took out a glass from the container, poured a shot, and kneeled down to place it in front of each grave. She was extremly close to breaking down at this point. Her walls were fucked beyond belief. But she had a duty, one that she fullfilled each year, one that she would never let herself out of. Lin stood off to the side, letting out an uncharacteristic tear, which slid down the right side of her face and reached the pair of scars she sported. At least she could cry. Korra was screaming internally. She just wanted to let everything out that she had been holding in. The tears were unresponsive as usual.

After finishing with the last grave, Korra poured two final glasses, and handed on to her commander, her rock who was trying her damned hardest to hold it together for the both of them.

Lin lifted her glass up. Korra tried as hard as she could to mimic her, but at this point, her arm wouldn’t listen to her.

Korra mumbled out “miss you guys.”

“Miss you guys.” Lin echoed her, before dumping the bitter liquid down her throat.

Korra tried and tried. Despite the fact that she was no longer a drinker, too many memories of happy faces lounging around a truck, with a bottle of whatever they could scrounge up passed around them. She needed to get this down. She needed to be with them, at least as much as she could in this regard. It just wasn’t happening. She couldn’t do it. Her hand was jittering up and down, whisky spilling over the side.

Finally, she had enough.The glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the ground below her.

Kinda looked like Korra’s heart, the pieces scattered around the dark green grass.

Lin Beifong, startled by the noise, shot an extremly un-Lin Beifong like look of sympathy over to Korra. She felt horrible for the poor girl, for what the world had put her through, for how broken she seemed. But now was not time to voice her complaints.

Korra’s empty blue eyes now moved up to the sky, resting their before coming back to the graves in front of her.

“Thank you Major.”

“Of course, my dear.”

With that, Korra packed everything back into her bag, made a sharp turn, and started walking back to the parking lot.

She had never felt more empty, more alone.

Life just had to make her day more complicated.

As she passed back through the mossed-over arching gate, she instantly recognized a certain maroon car that had a scratch running from the back door to the trunk. It wasn’t flashy, or stand-outish in any way. But Korra knew it. And she knew who it belonged to.

Asami stepped out of the driver side, holding a boquette of the same jasmine flowers she always used when visiting her mom’s grave in her left hand. She wore a simple sweater with jeans. The light wind that day ruffled her hair softly. 

Their eyes locked.

It was almost identical to the situation they had had just a week before. It seemed like fate really just wanted to keep forcing the two of them together when neither expected it.

Pretty cruel.

They just stood there for a couple of seconds. Korra’s eyes, empty from the past half and hour spent in the graveyard, lost more color that shouldnt have even existed. A blank expression, just like at the bar, decorated her face. 

It was just too much.

Having to deal with that shitty memorial just before, and now this.

Asami looked really concered, like she knew just about anything might set Korra off. She could see how awful Korra looked. She could tell the pain she held. It broke her own heart just a little more. 

Asami was first to break the silence:

“Hey…”

Korra immediately remembered where she was, what she was doing, and how very very very badly she needed to leave right now.

“I’m sorry, I can’t fucking do this right now.”

“Korra wait!”

“I need to leave, I need to leave, I need to leave.”

“Korra I need to talk to you!”

“Sorry, I’ve got to go.”

Korra was now at her car, and Asami was shouting at her, having not moved an inch. They were both in so much pain, and Korra was definitely not willing to stick around and wait for literally a light breeze to come by and knock what was left of her nonexistent emotional protection over. She needed to go, to get as far away from this place filled with shitty memories and her.

So she stepped in her car and left, leaving Asami stunned and hating herself just a little bit more, if that was even possible.

As soon as Korra got home, she opened her bag, grabbed the bottle, unscrewed the top, and moved to drown everything out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this rollercoaster. It certainly was tough to write. Both Korra and Asami are just about at the lowest of their lows right now, and it hurts as a compassionate human being to see anyone like they are. I realized while writing this that this was the first time either of them has said anything to each other since that second time Korra got on the train. Pretty somber stuff.
> 
> A jump ahead to next chapter: we'll get to see a lot more dialogue between the two, although its definitely not going to be pretty, and definitely won't be in a happy situation. But at least they aren't going to ignore each other, right?
> 
> As always, I'm really grateful for all your kind words and comments on my writing. I really try to make sure this story is as thought provoking and interesting to read as possible. Every Kudo and Comment makes the whole thing worth it. Thank you all.
> 
> Not to set a definite schedule for myself, but I'd like to have two more chapters out within the week.


	8. Now is not the Time

Opal got two phone calls that evening.

She came home from the Y particularly worried about Korra. Opal was never the type to enjoy working on Sundays, as Sundays meant old coffee and irritated 9-5 workers.

Today was no different, but her mind was a little preoccupied stressing over Korra’s mental condition to be particularly worried about anything. She had never seen the girl as distressed as she had been the past week, not even when she had first returned from the army with an empty suitcase and glazed over eyes, and try as she might hide it from Opal, there was very little that escaped the perceptive girl’s gaze. The dark circles under Korra’s eyes had been getting bigger, the eyes more bloodshot, and their conversations in the morning were always limited to one or two words. Opal could tell it wasn’t just the chance meeting with Asami that was getting to her, despite how much she knew that had hurt, as the reminders of a love that floated away always will be.

Opal was extremely worried, and yet she was beating her head in failing to figure out how to help her best friend.

She herself was no psychologist; she was not trained to help somebody going through the type of pain that Korra was, and as smart as she was, it was a little beyond her abilities to diagnose the years of depression and PTSD Korra had experienced and bottled up. The most she could do as a friend was consoling and acting as a shoulder to cry on for the girl, but with Korra’s current mentality, it would be surprising if she opened up to a trained military interrogation team. Opal knew Korra’s walls were up, and it wasn’t in her power to bring them down. That alone would depend on Korra.

And yet she was worried.

It was getting to the point where Opal was frightened the girl might end up hurting herself or others physically. Korra was strong enough that if she truly lost it, and succumbed to the intense negative emotions that she had built up and bottled over 4 years, a huge number of people could be put at risk, including Korra herself.

Such heavy thoughts were pretty much Opal concerned herself with now.

She had spoken to Bolin about Korra over the phone pretty much every day the past week. Bolin could do very little to console the tired friend who broke down crying, sobbing into the phone about the hurt she felt for her best friend and screaming at the shit the world had put her through. He was at as much of a loss as she was. He and Mako cared very deeply about Korra and were just as worried about her as Opal was, but if Opal wasn't going to reach her then there was no shot that they would. Bolin could only provide the levity, kindness, and the reassurance that Opal was doing the most she could which he knew Opal severally needed desperately right now.

Opal also called Korra’s parents, who were probably the only other civilians who understood what was destroying Korra from the inside. One’s parents are usually a rock to turn to, an infallible cure-all that would at the very least distract from the current pain. But now, Korra wouldn’t even open up to them. They had called, both over the phone and through Skype, multiple times that week, understanding from the urgency that Opal conveyed to them that their daughter was going through more pain than she ever had, but Korra didn’t pick up once. She probably knew that her parents, while being extremely tormented by her state of mind, would do nothing to help her shut in the pain.

Naturally, they were distraught. No parent is willing to see their own kid go through the horrors that Korra had. Tonraq and Senna missed the little girl who would call home with a bright smile conveyed over the screen, beaming to them about some accomplishment in the pool or high score on a math test. To hear from Opal that their daughter was reduced to nothing more than a blank stare that conveyed more hurt than any grimace: it broke their heart. And they couldn’t do anything to help as long as Korra shut them out.

Opal expected it would take a miracle to reach Korra now.

Coming into her apartment, Opal kicked her shoes across the room in frustration. Korra didn’t have any lessons to give on Sundays, but she usually at least came in to work out for a little bit. Not today. Opal couldn’t help being tense and frightened. She really just wanted to scream at the top of her lungs are her stupid irrational friend who wouldn’t listen to her at all, but at the moment, the walls of her kitchen would have to suffice.

Her neighbors certainly picked up on the message.

Opal firmly desired to spend the night trying to distract herself from her best friend's predicament by watching mindless television in bed. Not really the best strategy, but at this point, Opal had spent too much time trying her fucking hardest to think of a way to help Korra and she was exhausted. It was going to become a tomorrow problem when Korra hopefully returned to work.

Opal made her way to her shower, leaving her clothes on the floor of her bathroom, and turned the water to the maximum heat.

Perfect to burn off the trauma she was attempting to carry for her friend. 

The steam lazily wafted above her head, seemingly taunting her by saying, “she's going to float away soon, disappear into the cold air, and you might as well scream as loud and as long as you want now, cause there isn't a thing you can do to stop her.”

Hand on the glass windowpane, a clenched fist filled with stress, anguish, and the weight of life.

Getting out of the shower, Opal started to dry her hair, when her phone, which had been resting on the counter next to a toothbrush and some makeup remover, started to buzz.

Caller ID: Asami Sato

Holy shit

Opal had to do a double-take.

‘How the fuck does she even have my number?’ Opal’s eyes were wide, and her hands were tense at her side. 

Never in a million years did she expect Asami to reach out to her. Not after Opal had tried her damn hardest to shut the girl out of any situation where she could possibly hurt Korra again. Fat load of good she did there. But at the very least, Opal had assumed Asami would never want to speak with Opal again. And considering Opal had changed her number almost two years ago, she was certain that even if she wanted to, Asami wouldn’t be able to find her.

And yet that was definitely Asami Sato’s number.

By now, at least two pass-throughs of Opal’s ringtone had gone by. Opal had yet to move her hands from her side. Other than the casual beeping, the only other sound that reached her ears was the slow drops of water falling from the showerhead behind her

Caller ID: Asami Sato

Drip

Drip

Drip

Her phone was about to go to voicemail. Now or never, Opal cynically thought. No way Asami would try calling again if she just ignored her. There was no way.

So Opal finally reached out, gingerly picked up the phone with almost shaking hands, and pressed on the tiny green button.

Opal forced herself to calm down.

Nothing good would come from making a fool of herself now.

A good five seconds passed before either said anything.

“Sato.” It was as much an acknowledgment as a threat. The word was filled with anger, malice, and a deep deep undertone of worry, that Opal would deny the second anyone brought up.

*hic 

“Hi Opal”

Asami had obviously been crying. The sniffles and the shaky voice came over loud and clear through the speakers. But more importantly, Asami’s voice sounded as empty and hurt as a certain someone that Opal had listened to desperately throughout the past week.

It was a world crushingly weak voice.

One resigned to fate.

”Spit it out, what do you want? Otherwise, I’m hanging up” Opal was harsh. She was not here to listen to this woman’s struggles, to be a safe space.

No matter how much the memory of Friday night football games, sleepovers, and dances threatened to break through Opal’s own wall of judgment.

“I promise I won't take up much of your time. Please don’t hang up. Just give me a chance to speak.” The same weak voice replied back.

“Fine.”

Clearly relieved, “Thank you.”

There was a bit of a pause.

“Please don’t yell at me yet, but I want… no, I need to talk to you about Korra.” Asami sighed and then continued

“I saw her today, at the cemetery when I was visiting my mother’s grave. She was wearing her dress uniform, and I think it was as much of a shock to me as it was to her.”

Another pause and Opal took the time to digest the information.

“I know I don’t have the right to know anything about her and what happened after I broke her heart. I will regret my decision for the rest of my life, but there isn’t really much I can do about it now…”

“But her eyes Opal. Her fucking eyes. I just needed one look and I was reminded why I am the worst human scum to walk the fucking Earth! They weren't cruel, or angry, or even sad. Her goddamn eyes were just empty. What could she possibly have gone through to fucking look like that? It was like looking at a wall!”

Asami took a quick moment to settle her mind, then began again.

“I know I’ll never be able to atone for my choices, the hurt that I’ve caused her, but call me hypocritical, I will never want to see the girl that I loved more than anything else in the world as broken as she seemed today.”

“So please Opal, I can’t be there for her, not now at least, so at least please tell me you are trying to take care of her. I can’t see her like that again. Hate me all you want, I just want that girl to be happy. I need to feel like I’ve done at least something to make up for all the pain I caused her.”

Silence.

Drip

Drip

Drip

“Opal please, please don’t ignore me. Don’t shut me out again. At least say something!”

Opal was reeling. Too much emotion, too little time to digest it, her brain was telling her. A long week of constant worrying and angst over Korra meant that she couldn’t keep up.

“Don’t do that… You don’t get to do that,” She managed to spit out.

Asami was stunned to silence again.

“You… I’m supposed to fucking hate you, and you can’t just go and do that! Fuck off! It’s not fair! Fuck! you!”

Opal Beifong considered herself an extremely good judge of character, and she felt like she could usually read people well. Asami was coming across crystal clear. The pain, regret, agony over past decisions, self-loathing, and most importantly, loss, couldn’t have been painted more plainly across the scratchy, aching, broken voice. It was a voice that carried a dark sea, and a drowning woman.

And Opal couldn’t handle the sincerity of the weight of the world.

It didn’t even matter what Asami had said, Opal wouldn’t have been able to defeat her soul from aching for the woman, the desire to protect and console her, to try and make everything all right, because that was just the kind of person she was. Hating Asami before was hard. Hating Asami now, with a sobbing woman on the line, as downright impossible.

“You took pretty much everything from the girl, you know that right?”

Asami, through tears, managed to say “Yes, and I will hate the dumbass who thought it made sense, that everything would work out, for the rest of my life. I won’t ever forgive myself.”

Softly, “She is so broken right now, and you caused a huge chunk of that.”

“And I will do everything I can to make it up to her, to help her, even if I don’t deserve the chance to make amends.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“Please Opal, just tell me you are doing everything you can for her.”

Opal muttered to herself, “even that’s not enough, you fuck.” and then a little louder “I’m trying my best. I think it might be best if I handle it though, cause despite grudgingly getting your sentiment, even seeing you once is probably going to set Korra off.”

“Okay…”

“Please, just leave me alone. I might get back to you, might not, but I need to not be talking to you right now.”

Asami sighed.

“Bye Opal.”

With that, Opal hung up.

Drip

Drip

Drip

Fucking hell, she thought. Just what I fucking needed.

Opal placed her phone back on the counter and stared at the tired reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look nearly as tired or broken as Korra, but the girl starring back at her was sleep-deprived and emotionally distraught.

Her head was whirling around with thoughts of a past love, fun times, and the chasm between then and now. The regretful and guilt-ridden Asami, the hurting Korra, and the fucking middle woman who just wanted to go back to high school, more than anything else.

It was too much.

Why didn’t they find happiness?

Did they not deserve it?

Did they do something wrong?

Opal drew a blank on that front.

Probably 10 minutes went by before Opal left the bathroom, carrying her phone, changed into sweats, and hopped into her emotionless and accepting bed.

And then her phone started to buzz again.

Please let it be Bolin, or Senna, or literally anyone other than Asami, cause I can’t deal with that again right now.

Opal flipped her phone over, and almost threw up.

Caller ID: Korra

Fuck

It had been almost two weeks since the last time Korra had called Asami, before the shit hit the fan at the bar, before all of their empty conversations in the morning, before Korra had apparently gone to the graveyard in military dress.

Whatever she was calling for now, it couldn’t be good.

Drip

Drip

Drip

Opal waited way less than she did to pick up Asami’s call. What she got, however, once she pressed the green button, was about as far away from what she expected as possible.

“Hi, Opal!”

Fuck

She slurred her voice.

She’s fucking drinking.

Opal knew fully well that Korra didn’t drink. Ever. Military discipline meant she never broke this commitment.

Things were falling apart, piece by piece.

“...Korra?” Opal tentatively spoke.

Silence.

Drip

Drip

Drip

And in the quietest voice of the night, with pain dripping down the sides of it, Korra spoke.

“Help me.”

Drip

Drip

Drip

The miracle happened.

She sorta opened up.

The showerhead stopped dripping, seeming to realize that now was not the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for making the wait for this chapter unbelievably long. I feel terrible because I really love writing this story, and the wait was unfairly long. I've been incredibly busy with school, and I just finished finalizing my college applications, which was a major time suck, so hopefully I will have a much more consistent, frequent upload schedule after this. I'm definitely still invested in these characters I've created, and I hope you all continue to tell me what you think of my writing and character development in the future. Anyways, hope you all enjoy reading this new material, and as always, I'd love to hear your critiques or hopes for where I take this story in the future. Thank you for your continued support.


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